


Cigarettes & Gun Smoke

by Areo_ian, Lady_Red



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - Bonnie and Clyde Fusion, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Speakeasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areo_ian/pseuds/Areo_ian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Red/pseuds/Lady_Red
Summary: Bulma Briefs finds her life is boring and monotonous, until the crowned prince of crime Vegeta Prince steps into her regular speakeasy and turns her world upside down.VBO First Date Event
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 36
Kudos: 62
Collections: Vegebul First Dates





	1. Chapter 1

The dark, maroon-colored room was hazy with smoke while noisy chatter, jovial laughter, and soothing jazz filled the room as liquor and booze freely flowed between ladies and gentlemen dressed in brightly beaded flapper dresses and stiff, debonair suits. 

It was becoming monotonous.

Bulma leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, pulled a long drag from a white and gold adorn cigarette holder, and slowly blew it out as her dark, ocean blue eyes scanned the room for any potential conversation partner. She knew she was attracting attention; her sky-blue locks were cut into a fashionable bob with a black, jeweled headband sitting on her crown while a black feather curling above her head, her red dress was embellished with black beading, and her red satin gloves came up to her elbows. She knew she was the most gorgeous woman in the room, and as an heiress, she was also the most sought after, but most of the guests here were tedious and only wanted to be associated with her name rather than herself. 

Bulma heard a commotion at the door, and she watched as a group of men walked into the conspicuous speakeasy. The aura around them was dark and threatening, moving people out of the way like the parting of the sea. Bulma noticed three men in the center immediately, their clothing out of place with their simplistic suits of earthy tones, yet expensive and well-tailored. The two larger men were walls of muscle, but they did not draw her eye. Her gaze landed on the shorter man; his dark hair, almost black whipped up into a flame with a prominent widow’s peak, his face was strong, severe, and unconventionally handsome, and his eyes were sharp, dark, and most of all, cold. His dark blue tweed suit seemed to stretch across his muscular form, and perhaps his body type was not what most women desired in a man, but Bulma felt her body grow warm at the sight of him.

She brought her glass of champagne to her lips, letting the cool, bubbly liquid soothe her parched mouth as she studied the man more closely over her glass. He went straight to the bar and tapped the surface to grab the attention of the bartender, who ran over at the first sight of the cold man, and poured him an amber colored scotch. The dark stranger took a sip of his drink, his face expressionless as he took in the room, his ebony eyes cooly calculating and never missing a single detail from the decor to the people. 

Bulma took another drag from her cigarette just as their eyes met.

The world around her went silent.

Her breath froze in her chest and her heart drummed loudly in her ears.

He held her gaze, an emotion flashed in his eyes, but she couldn’t recognize it because it was gone as quickly as it came. Her body seemed to become more aware of him and her skin tingled just as his eyes slowly swept over her figure. Bulma leisurely blew out the smoke of her cigarette and gave him a teasing lift of her lips, just as her own gaze lasciviously leered at his appearance. She returned her gaze to his with a wicked grin and he gave an inaudible huff before taking a sip of his drink while returning his gaze and finishing his observation of the room.

Bulma chuckled softly to herself and she knew that they were both aware of each other. When she made the slightest of moves, slipping her leg over her other knee, he seemed to tense slightly but never allowed his gaze to fall on her. She played her game with him, shifting in her seat, sipping her drink, taking a pull from her cigarette, and speaking to the nearest waiter for another drink, just to see him squirm across the room. She watched as men tried to curry favor with him, but were quickly dismissed just as women tried to hang off his arm to only grab air. One tramp managed to graze her hand down his arm, but he took her wrist and gently shoved her away. It was obvious that he didn't like to be casually touched.

This man was important and powerful.

But he wasn’t someone from her social circle and judging by his crew, he was involved in… shady investments.

Bulma wanted to know him, he called to her like a moth to a flame and the attraction between them was undeniable. She slowly stood from her seat and sashayed her way over to him, taking her time to smile and greet bystanders on her path to the bar. She ignored the two large men that glared at her and stepped beside the handsome stranger to only wave over the bartender, ignoring the man whose body heat warmed her bare arm.

"Miss Briefs, what can I get you?" The bartender friendly grinned as he polished a glass. 

"Martini, extra olives," she purred with a teasing lift to her lips. 

He nodded with a smile and moved to make her drink. Bulma extinguished the remaining embers of her cigarette in the glass ashtray and reached into her drawstring purse for another, but she found a fresh smoke in front of her face. She glanced up at the handsome stranger that held it and she took it from his fingers, Their eyes were glued to each other as she put the butt to her lips and he drew close to light the other end. She took a pull, the tobacco tickling the back of her throat, and softly blew out smoke between her lips, their gaze never leaving one another. 

"Your drink, Miss Briefs," she heard the bartender and the clink of glass touching the counter. 

"Thank you, Vermouth,” she replied and watched as the man in front of her lit his own cigarette, studying her in their close proximity.

“And anything for you sir?” The bartender turned his attention to her stranger.

“Whiskey. Neat,” the man said in clipped tones, his voice rough as though not often used.

“Right away, sir.”

Bulma and her new companion never said a word, content with studying each other and allowing the noise of the room to become nothing but background. Vermouth returned with the man’s drink and silently stepped away into the backdrop.

“You come here often.” His question was more of a statement.

Bulma smiled softly, “Yes, and you, not often enough.”

“I’m visiting,” he replied as he took a sip of his drink.

Bulma tilted her head curiously, “Family? Friends?”

“No.”

She smiled wickedly, “Me?”

His eyes wandered down her form, pausing at her large breasts and wide hips that weren’t fashionable in a woman, but his eyes seemed to burn at the sight of them, “If you make it worth my while.”

Bulma hummed with interest as she brought her glass to her lips, “And what if you don’t make it worth mine?”

Warning flashed in his eyes and he stepped closer into her, “Do you know who you’re talking to, woman?”

Bulma took a long drag from her fag and blew it out in his face, “No… do you?”

He stared at her hard for a beat, his cold eyes seemingly assessing her anew before he smirked, “What’s your name, woman?”

“Bulma, Bulma Briefs,” she said as she took a sip of her drink and saw the recognition dawn in his eyes.

“What is the heiress of Capsule Corp. doing in a place like this?” He asked, his body drawing closer in his interest.

“And who cares to ask?” She raised a brow as she prompted for his name.

“Vegeta. Prince.”

Bulma paused at the name, and he looked at her as though daring her to flee, scream, or bow down for his attention, but she merely cocked her head to the side with renewed curiosity. “And why is the notorious head of the Prince Mobster Family doing in a place like this?”

“Hn. I asked first,” the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement.

Bulma shrugged one shoulder, “Bored.” She smiled at him softly, “Now answer mine.”

“Killing time,” he imitated her shrug.

“Is that all you’re killing tonight?” She teased, her lips quirking at her own remark.

Vegeta’s face drew close to hers, his lips only a breath away and she felt his hot hands through her dress as he traced the beading at her hip. “I rather do something more… pleasurable, tonight.”

Bulma licked her ruby red lips, the motion causing his eyes to drop to her mouth, and she pressed her breasts into his chest, “Oh? What do you have in mind?”

His fingers gently dug into the fabric of her dress, "Come with me, somewhere private, and we can discuss more in detail what I want to do to you tonight.”

Bulma raised an amused brow, “Do to me? Not with me?”

Vegeta’s lips twitched and moved forward, brushing his cheek against hers while his warm breath tickled her ear, “You will scream from the things I will _do_ to you.”

Bulma's eyes flutter closed as a shiver went down her spine and she pressed her lips against his cheek, “Do your worst.”


	2. Chapter 2

The blond didn’t suit her. Though he had to admit the get up was working as a passable disguise. But when he looked at her, he wanted to see the vivid beauty that laid next to him several nights after _that_ night. Not the dull blonde, brown eyed woman conceling herself and her identity behind him. 

“Why are you staring at me? Stay focused!” Bulma nugged his back while giving her refashioned Tommy Gun a once-over. 

“Excuse me. I’m the one that planned this job!” Vegeta yelled quietly over his shoulder and squatted a little lower behind the tree. 

“Excuse you! I’m the one that helped you plan it so you wouldn’t get caught this time.” She replied to his back in an even harsher whisper.

“Shush Woman! Here it comes.”

Like a beacon, the mid-morning sun bounced off the brown Ford cruising down the lonely backwoods dirt road. Vegeta checked his watch. “Twelve past the hour. This rat bag is a late one.” 

He fixed his eyes on the car but his attention was on the woman behind him. Heiress turned criminal, that shit was so ridiculous it might as well be fiction. He wouldn’t have believed it if she wasn’t attached to his hip.

A loud crunch of metal signaled it was time. Vegeta sprung from this hiding place and aimed his gun at the driver as he approached.

The trap was one of her design. It took his muscle and her brains for it to work, but it paid off in the end. Digging a small but deep hole in the narrow road, covering it, waiting for a tire to get stuck and having it distracting the driver while they approached, was simple enough but proved highly effective and lucrative. He advanced to the door while Bulma rounded the front to the passenger side.

He got word that D.A. Kai was going to send his most trusted officer to deliver the evidence against him to the feds, but he didn’t expect _him_. His smirk widened and his trigger finger itched. 

“Open up.” Vegeta tapped the window with the barrel of his gun and allowed himself to bask in the moment. The unrelenting dick that’s been on his tail for years was delivered to him on a silver platter. He will make him suffer and beg for mercy before he killed him.

The driver opened the door but his sights were set on her. “Bulma?” 

“Goku?” She lowered her gun but kept her finger on the trigger. 

_Goku?_ Vegeta scanned the man, quite sure it was FBI Agent Kararot Son in front of him.

“Bulma! I thought you left the country. Your parents have been worried about you.” The agent ignored Vegeta and walked towards Bulma.

“Don’t move Kakarot. I’ll blow that empty vessel where your brain should be clean off.”

From behind his enemy, he saw something in her change. She aimed her gun at the suit’s chest. _Good girl_. He was about to regain control over the situation, then the bastard stepped forward. 

Bulma took a quick step back but kept a steady hand. “How did you recognize me?”

“Bulma, I’ve known you forever. I can’t say this is _unlike_ something you would do. But I was really, really hoping she,” he looked her up and down with a confused look, “wasn’t _you_.”

Vegeta could read the conflict over her face. He didn’t know what connection they shared but she was compromised. This auspicious moment quickly spiraled into the worse case scenario.

“Listen, I don’t know why you’re doing this.” He confidently approached her with hands up.

“Don’t move Goku.” Her steady hand started to shake.

“But we can talk. We’re friends.”

 _Friends?_ Vegeta pressed his gun to the back of Goku’s head. “I swear if you take another step.” 

Goku stopped. “Krillin, Chi Chi…Yamcha, everyone is worried about you. Just surrender. We can work this out.” 

“I’m never surrendering.” She opened and closed her hands around the metal. “Stand over there and let us take the evidence and the car.”

“You know I can’t do that Bulma. If I can’t reason with you, then…You both are under arrest.”

“HA! Don’t make me laugh, Kakarot.”

Goku’s voice shifted to something more authoritative, meant for Vegeta, but his eyes stayed on Bulma. “For the attempted murders of the DA and assistant DA.” 

_Tsh, attempted. Damn woman curbed my body count._

“And for the tampering of evidence.”

“Don’t move Kakarot.” He took a step as his enemy did. “I will kill you.” Pride in his words as he was ready to follow through with action. If she couldn’t pull the trigger, he would and keep her record clean. 

Before Vegeta could react, Goku rushed in to disarm her. 

Two shots. 

Dust danced in the air as the body hit the ground. 

“Get in!” Vegeta lowered his gun and made his way to the driver side. In the back seat he found it. The box containing it all: pictures, finger prints, fucking audio recordings. Destroying all that evidence would give them the clean break they needed, to maybe build something of their own. 

“FUCK!” Or they would have if the box wasn’t empty. _Fucking decoy. I will rip out his insides and feed it to his damned pet monkey when I get my hands on him!_ After pressing all his rage into crushing the box into a ball, he grabbed the wood board from the side of the road and fashioned it under the submerged tire. Returning to the driver's seat, he found the passenger side empty.

Over the lifeless body, her white knuckled hands still clenched the metal between them. He could tell it took a lot from her to shoot him. And he could only be more proud, if he took the shot himself. Hearing a car coming down the road, he strode over to her ready to snap her back to reality. But with the shock still fresh in her eyes, he gently rubbed her back and slowly lowered her gun with his finger. “Bulma. Let’s go.”

A tear fell just as she looked up at him, “ok.” Her voice, weak and quiet.

He ushered her into the car, blocking her view of the body. Backing up the plank and with all four tires on the road, they sped off towards the thruway. 

—————

“Eat.” 

Her body remained slack. Her puffy lids lingered on the trail of ashes that led to her untouched yet burnt out cigarette in front of her.

A chime caught his attention. His eyes darted over to her side. Behind her, a couple booths away, an evening delivery man was entering the diner. From his interaction with the waitresses, he seemed like a regular and not an undercover suit. 

“We’re going to be on the road for a while. If you don’t eat now…” Waiting a beat for her to react, he reached for her burger on the plate next to the ashtray.

“ _Hn._ No use mourning the clown. He got what he deserved.” He retracted his hand after it was smacked away and finished the last half of his third burger in one bite.

“He was a good man Vegeta.” The guilt in her voice pained his heart. 

“There are no good or bad men. Decisions and actions define who you are.” He said between chews.

“Well, he always decided to do good. Always.” The latter left her lips as a whisper.

“ _Tsh._ No use arguing over the dead.” He cleaned his hands on a napkin and tossed it across the table. “Who was he to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You froze when he approached. Didn’t even fire a warning shot.”

“That would have been a waste of ammo.” She folded her arms over her chest and avoided eye contact.

“Who is he to you that it took so much for you to kill him? Who were those people he named? What are you hiding from me Bulma?”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Her fist hitting the table flipped her ashtray. 

Suddenly feeling the unwanted attention from her outburst, they leaned in closer and spoke lower.

“Goku was my best friend. And those people, they were my friends too.” She tapped her plate playfully. “I’ve told you stories about the adventures we took out of the city. We’ve been friends for over ten years now. I’ve seen him get married. Have a kid. And now… Fuck. Chi Chi I’m so, so sorry.” She silently weeped into her hand. 

He wanted to believe her. But he knew he was fooling himself to believe this blue haired beauty, this vexing vixen, this smart, sexy, stunning woman loved him as much as he loved her. “What is this to you, some game? A way to pass the time?”

“What?!” Confusion, hurt, sadness, and anger stirred in her voice.

He crossed his arms over his chest. Not falling for her act. “A couple of fucks and you left your cushy life behind, put on a disguise and became a _criminal_. You rob and steal, but you won’t kill. Then bitch at me for eliminating my enemies.” He didn’t care who heard. He didn’t care if the police came. He loved this infuriating woman and needed to know if she had his back. 

“People die. _You..._ can _die_. Are you ready for that? If not,” he tightened his grip around his chest to give him courage. The last thing he wanted was her to leave his side. But he knew this life wasn’t for her. She had a life before him. She can be safe. “Keep your mouth shut and go back to West City. I’ll handle things up North-”

“Fuck you Vegeta!” She removed the colored lens from her eye and chucked the glass at his chest. “Cushy life, huh? A woman has to be on her back or knees to get anywhere in life. Despite how much money she has, her smarts or her gumption.” She flicked the other lens at him and stood, revealing a blue fire he’s never seen before. “Mourning a friend doesn’t make me weak or unable to do the job. You froze just as much as I did.”

Another chime from the door. This time two suits, probably scorchers, entered. Bulma and Vegeta eyed the coppers as they scanned the diner. Tugging his custom-made hat lower to his eyes, he snatched his jacket that concealed his gun. “Let’s go.” He grabbed her wrist and headed for the back door. She didn’t move. 

“Yes. I’m ready to die.” She removed the wig and tossed it in his face. “Because here is where I want to be.” She wrestled her wrist out his grip. “I never felt so... alive!” 

Sliding her weapon behind her back, she slowly sashayed to the front. “You two looking for me? Bulma Briefs. Or as the papers call me…” She raised her gun and shot out the glass behind them. “Blondie.”

The cops drew their weapons. Vegeta put them down before they had a chance to fire.

“Hey there, can you put all that in a bag and hand over the cash in the register. We’re taking a trip and I’m a little hungry.” Bulma pointed to the food under the heat lamp, then the register with the tip of her gun. 

_Hmph. I guess she’s got more moxy than what I give her credit for._ With a wide smirk, he tossed off his hat and jumped on a table. Pointing his gun at the frightened diners, he announced, “Empty your pockets. Hand over all jewelry to the pretty lady. And you _might_ live another day.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bulma’s hips lifted up from the mattress and gasped at the first touch of Vegeta’s tongue swiping across her swollen clit, but his hand came up to press her back down and circled the blood-filled bud with the tip of his clever muscle. Her legs closed around his head and her hand slipped into his dark mane, gripping it hard while he lapped between her folds, tracing the edges of her vaginal lips with his devious tongue. He dipped it between her opening, curling it to bring some of her fluids into his mouth, and groaned. Vegeta moved back to her clit, wrapping his lips around it before tugging it with hard pulls, suckling on it as he flicked his tongue over it.

Bulma mewled, her thighs shaking around his head as he artfully slipped a finger inside her warm, wet sheath and pumped it hard and fast. Her womb clenched, tighter and tighter until he curled his finger around her sweet spot, and she was flooded with electrifying heat, crying out his name. 

Bulma panted against the sheets and felt Vegeta crawl up the sheets, kissing her belly and each breast gently before stealing her breath with a hungry kiss. He pulled away and she saw the raw lust in his eyes just as she felt his insistent cock pressing against her thighs. Her pussy clenched, her need growing quickly again for this man and he must have seen it in her eyes because before she knew it, he had flipped them around. He laid on his back, his cock poised at her entrance as she straddled him and her hands pressed against his belly. 

Bulma licked her lips and slowly pushed down on his throbbing, thick cock, her vaginal walls stretching around him that bordered on exquisite pain. She moaned in delight as she took him to the hilt and her hips undulated, the small circular motions brushed against her swollen clit. Vegeta smacked her bottom sharply, “Move your ass. I want to see those tits bounce.”

Bulma bit her lip, his dark words made her womb squeeze and moved to settle on her knees, slowly rising up on his cock as she balanced on her hands on his muscled stomach. She felt the tip of his cock nearly slip out of her pussy before she slammed down on him, moaning at the friction. Vegeta grabbed her hips, watching with a hungry lust as she started a steady pace until she was wildly bouncing on his cock and panting hard beneath her. 

His fingers dug into her flesh and he suddenly thrusted up at her, making her cry out as he hit that sensitive spot deep inside her. Bulma felt her heavy breasts jiggle with each powerful lunge inside her tight, wet pussy and slid her hands away from him to cup her breasts, massaging them and tweaking her nipples.

“Fuck! I want those tits in my mouth! They look as sweet as your cunt,” Vegeta nearly growled and shifted, getting on his haunches and his mouth latching on her nipple. Bulma moaned, her hands digging into his thick hair as he suckled hard. He moved them again, pushing her onto her back as he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close, his hard, muscled body pressed against hers and began to rut into her like a crazed, wild animal. The combination of his powerful thrusts and his pubic bone rubbing against her clit as he sucked on her breast, suddenly had her back lifting off the bed, screaming as she was once more overcome with intense, pleasurable waves of liquid heat. Bulma heard Vegeta groan loudly into her breasts and slammed his cock home one last time, and she knew that he had spilled his seed.

Bulma panted with Vegeta, her sweat mixing with his and she felt his heart beating wildly against her chest. Her hands glided down his back, enjoying the feel of sinew underneath heated skin and she breathed in the air heavy with the smell of their musky sex. She enjoyed moments like this, the glow of after sex where she could hold Vegeta in her arms and the world seemed to slow with only the two of them in existence. Her cold and cruel man, who fucked her with uninhibited abandon as though he couldn’t get enough of her, would always hold her tenderly afterward, just as he did now as his fingers traced over an old wound on her arm she had received on one of their many heists; a stray bullet meant to embedded in the chest of the man she loved found its mark on her flesh. They had been ambushed and nearly cornered, but the moment that bullet hit her, Vegeta had gone on a rampage and escaped with her in his arms. Ever since, he had been more and more reluctant to take her on any more raids, even if she screamed at him until she was hoarse. 

“Bulma…” Vegeta spoke her name quietly.

“Hm?” She hummed, her thoughts coming back down to the present.

“I think it’s time… we start a family…” 

Bulma froze and blinked slowly, “I’m sorry, did you just say something about starting a family?”

Vegeta rose up on his elbows to look down at her, his face void of expression, a tell-tell sign that he didn’t want her to know what he was feeling. “I did.”

She laughed incredulously, “What are you talking about?”

“I want to settle down… with you,” he said softly.

She scoffed in disbelief, “Vegeta, you’re not exactly the settling down kind of person. You would get bored and then leave me with the kids.”

He shook his head, “No. I’m done with this life. I don’t want to risk you again.”

“So you plan to keep me barefoot and pregnant in order to keep me in some kept home while you do what? Work at an office?” Bulma scoffed in disbelief and pushed at him with little success. “Get off me.”

He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, “You’re my woman. Since the day we met at that speakeasy, you’ve been mine, body, heart, and soul, and you’ll do as I say.”

Bulma narrowed her eyes at him with anger, “What the fuck did you say to me?”

He smirked down at her, “And there is one thing you’ve seem to have forgotten in the heat of passion as you eagerly rode my cock, Bulma.”

She struggled from his hold, and glared at him, “And what’s that?”

“We were so caught up that we didn't use protection."

Bulma stared at him for almost a full minute, letting his words sink in, and then she bucked against him, trying to push him off. "You dick! What the hell is wrong with you!" 

"I told you. I want to have a family with you. I want us to have a normal life," he said softly, his grip unyielding. 

"When have we ever been normal?! Why are you doing this?!" Bulma shrieked. 

"Because I love you, you daft woman!" 

Vegeta’s word stilled her and she looked at him with shock. He had never once uttered those three words to her, but here in quiet of the night in some seedy hotel room, his words seemed to echo around her. "What?" 

She saw the faintest touch of pink on his ears, "I won't lose you." He looked away for a moment, "I made a deal." 

Bulma frowned, "What kind of deal?" 

"I'm taking you back to West City, all charges will be dropped against you and I can walk free… if I give the names up of the other mob kings," Vegeta explained, but she went pale. 

"Vegeta! They'll kill you if they found out you ratted them out!" Bulma felt her heartbeat hard against her chest, images of this man in her arms dead and his blood on her hands came to the forefront of her mind. 

Vegeta shook his head, "Not if my plan works."

Bulma blinked at him, "What plan?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for reading our story! I hope you enjoyed this story! Please leave us a comment! 😘
> 
> Thank you Ruthlesscupcake for the beta!


	4. Chapter 4

_Two dames, rounding left. Black Roadster circling the block. No, different plates._

“Vegeta. Relax. We’re in the safest place we can be.” Bulma slowly leaned to her side to fix the plush pillow against her back. 

This used to be his favorite part. Letting his target think they were out of his grasp to run back home, safe, secure…vulnerable. 

“And no, we are not vulnerable. I got all the blind spots covered, plus we got our friends watching the house.” 

“ _Tsh_. Your friends.” Vegeta released the blind with a snap and continued to scan the late afternoon city street from the living room window. 

Despite their location, she was right. This was the safest place they could be. Bulma’s townhouse, their home she constantly corrected him, was in the center of West City. All eyes were on them, friends and enemies. Because of that, he could never relax. 

After turning himself in and telling the DA most of what he knew, the bastard nullified part of their agreement. He dropped the charges against Bulma, with caveats, and threw the book at him. The world knew he turned himself in and why. The crowned Prince of crime, fell in love with the Queen Sheba heiress and was going legit. He was truly convinced his life turned into a work of fiction.

And maybe it was. He never saw the inside of a jail cell. No one would talk. Not the cops. Not families of the people he killed. Not even the stool pigeons. All of the evidence against him disappeared. That part of the plan worked. But it cost Raditz his life, got Nappa pinched for life and led the rest of his Saiyan mob family down either path. 

Instead of sending him up the river or giving him the chair, the DA, in his defunct wisdom, thought it fitting to put him under house arrest while he waited for the evidence to _appear_. Leaving Vegeta under the watchful eye of several flatfoots, suits, and PO’s his wife called _‘friends’_. Speaking of the idiot, he was coming up the front steps.

“I hope I didn’t keep ya waiting too long. Man, these fries smell good.” Said the idiot who came rushing into the living room.

Vegeta snatched the greasy paper bag from Kakarot’s hand and checked the contents. “You better not have eaten any.” He passed the bag to Bulma.

“Nah. I had my own. But I’m still hungry.”

“Still warm! Thanks for picking it up for me.” Bulma stuffed a handful of fries in her mouth, eyeing the wrapped burger at the bottom of the bag. 

“No problem, I was coming by here anyway before heading back to headquarters. But do you think I can pick the stuff up tomorrow? Chi already started dinner.”

“Are you insane? She’s due any day now and she’s not working!” Vegeta shoved Kakarot to the side then placed the coffee table in front of Bulma.

“Actually,” Bulma tossed the bag on the table, rolling her eyes at Vegeta, “they’re ready now.” 

Vegeta’s head snapped up to her. “When did you-”

“But you would need someone else to help you carry them all. I made more than expected.” She continued with gleeful pride while rubbing her bulbous belly. 

“How did you-”

“Great!” Kakarot clapped his hands and bowed in her direction. “I’m sure the guys will be happy about this! And the DA would be happy to see y’all are keeping y’all side of the deal.”

“ _Tsh_.” Vegeta walked to the kitchen to get Bulma a glass of water. _Deal my ass_. Though he knew it was considerably better than her being behind bars, he never owed anyone anything and damn sure didn’t want his family to either. 

For her crimes, Bulma and her family’s company had to provide the FBI and West City police the latest advancements in tactical gear and weaponry that they could produce. Notably, the slim-fit yet durable bulletproof vest Bulma created for Kakarot, himself, and now the clown’s cronies. 

They both found out he was wearing it the day Bulma shot him, and were greeted with that dumbass grin he had right now, when they entered the DA’s office. 

“Hey Dumbass, leave and let her eat in peace.” He placed the glass next to her empty container of fries.

“You’re right, I should get going.” Kakarot backed up to the front door. “See ya, Bulma. I’ll be by tomorrow Geets, maybe we can have a quick spar sess-.”

“Just go.” Vegeta opened and pushed him out the door.

“It’s good. But not as tasty as the one from our first date.” Bulma pulled back the wrapper and took another large bite of the double cheeseburger with extra ketchup, mustard, onions, pickles, a layer of fries, bacon, BBQ sauce, and mayo. An order concocted by her monstrous pregnancy cravings and the clown. And something he hated to admit that he wanted to try one day.

“First date? The speakeasy.” His eyebrow arched as he checked the locks on the doors and pulled the curtains tight. 

“No, you remember. The diner off of I-7. After I _shot_ Goku.” She said between chews and taking a sip of water. 

“ _Hn_. The one where you went from Blonde to Badass.” He sat on the maroon velvet couch next to her, bringing the greasy bag with him.

Caught off guard at the remark, she smiled hard with her mouth full of food. “I guess every Badman needs a Badass by his side.”

“Will you stop calling me that,” he dug in the bag for leftover fries, “I’m no Badman. Not anymore.”

“Um, yeah, right. I do know…you are…about to be…a father. FUCK! _AHHHHHHHHHHH!_ ” Dropping the burger, she pressed her fists down into the cushions.

A cold fry dropped out his mouth. No heist ever came close to the rush he was feeling now. It was finally happening and he needed to do what he did best, keep his cool and control the situation. “Bulma, breathe.” He calmly instructed while moving the table. 

“I AM BREATHING! DON’T YOU HEAR ME BREATHING!” She huffed back and released an ear-piercing scream. 

“Yes. Good. Lay back.” He calmly responded and directed her. 

“What?! Here? No! That’s not the plan!” Bulma painstakingly shifted her body against the pillows.

The smiling faces of his enemies cycled through his head. Every vile act they would do to him, to her, or his unborn child felt like retribution for what he had done to others. “We’re not going to the hospital. This is the safest place we could be.” He placed a long throw over her legs and assisted her in removing her pants. “Besides, we've been through worse.” 

His smirk briefly melted her worry before another contraction came. He flexed his bicep against her bone-crushing grip. “Bulma, keep breathing. I’ll call the doctor and your father.” He placed a long kiss on her forehead and headed towards the medical cabinet. 

———

Seven hours later, Vegeta’s infamous trigger finger was tightly gripped by a tiny, innocent hand. His pride slept soundly in his arms and comfortably on the couch. Through the vulgar name-calling and curses, his Bulma delivered a strong, healthy baby boy.

Had he never gone to that club that night, he was sure their paths would have never crossed. He wouldn’t have lit her fuse. She wouldn’t be indebted to the feds. He would have taken over West and South cites. She would be married to that, waste of a talent, athlete. And none of this would have happened. He got a second chance... A second chance at a life that was never his.

And it seems the green bastard in the sky finally realized his mistake. _A warning shot_. 

He lowered the sleeping babe onto his lap and eyed the bullet hole in the wall behind him. “Still a shit shot.”

Hearing the bullet come through the window, Bulma stirred awake, and her parents hurried down the stairs. Vegeta handed his son to his mother-in-law and secured Bulma in his arms. Two men charged through the front door. 

“Everyone ok?” Officer Krillin pulled out a pistol from under his jacket. 

“Who do you think fired the shot?” Agent Piccolo with his gun in hand and checked the chamber.

“Probably one of Gero’s goons.” Bulma tried to stand. “Vegeta put me down, I can-”

“Baldy, watch the windows. You go to the back. You’re going to the safe room.” He directed the two men with a nod of his head, as he led his family down into the sub-level.

What was once a vast yet comfortable safe room and bunker, became a work and testing area for Bulma and her father’s most secret projects, as well as Vegeta’s armory. 

He placed her on a plush leather sofa next to her mother. “It wasn’t Gero. Old man doesn’t have the balls.” 

“Then it has to be-” 

“North city.” Vegeta quickly checked the magazines of every gat he could get his hands on before placing them in large black bags.

Bulma smiled weakly at her fully awake baby now nestled in her arms. “Thanks for getting me knocked up.”

“You’re welcome. It’s better that you sit out this one anyway.” He could feel her roll her eyes at his back as he put on his newest bulletproof vest and leather gloves. 

“Dad?” 

“Already on it dear, it should be coming on line any minute.” Her father shouted from the adjoining room that was lined with shelves of wires and metal parts. 

The sounds of gunfire and shouting could be heard faintly through the ceiling. 

He grabbed his favorite gat and steeled himself to look at Bulma and his son. Staring into her eyes until he couldn’t take it anymore, he snatched the bags and beelined it for the door.

“Vegeta wait.” 

He stopped in the doorway and turned to her.

She winced in pain as she stood and walked over to her workbench. With her free hand she snapped open a black case, “I can’t let you have all the fun,” and tossed him an eyepiece. 

It was an upgraded version of the one the North’s chopper squad leader wore. He dropped the bags and secured it to his left ear. Looking around, he could see heat signatures from those in the room and in the house above them. He felt her hand against his ear, with a beep the display changed, and he could measure the distance of their positioning. 

“Dad and I will be monitoring from down here. We can read what you see. But if it runs out of juice.” She handed him a mid-size weapon. It was the one she never let him play with outside of testing, because it packed a serious punch from a monstrously endless reserve. Pointing to the side right by the trigger, she revealed her shorthand notations for stun and lethal. He looked it over and returned his gaze to her’s with a wicked grin.

She pulled his vest close to her and kneaded his lips with her own. “If they want a war… We’ll do our worst.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed our story! More to come soon with Vegeta's perspective! Thank you k17 for the gorgeous art for the First Date Event!


End file.
